


Midnight

by Scattered_Irises



Series: Saffrons in the Palm of Your Hand [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Ending to the Illusion of Reunification, Forced Feminization, Forced Marriage, Mentions of mutilation, Psychological Torture, Rape, Strangulation, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scattered_Irises/pseuds/Scattered_Irises
Summary: He must answer the door, even if he knows that it will lead to hell that night. On some nights, he can no longer tell what is real and what isn't. He's not even certain that the tears on his cheeks nor the blood trickling from his legs are his. At midnight, the mirrors are distorted and he can no longer trust his reflection.





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> "Why isn't this categorized as a pairing in the warning box?"  
> Because this isn't a true pairing. This is a relationship built on pure mutual hatred. I would not slander the name of love with this.

  _Knock knock._ Slowly, Kaito’s eyes open and he glances at the clock on the wall. _12:00 AM._ He supposes that this was the usual time Byron came. He blearily grabs his robe and ties it around his body. Weak moonlight filters in through the curtains, enough for Kaito to see Byron’s outline as he enters the room. Even after all of these years, he still retained his excellent physique and handsome features. If only Dr. Faker could be like that.

 

 “Good evening, wife,” greets Byron.

 

 He closes the door behind him, no sound heard at all. Kaito straightens his posture and dips his head, ever so slightly. He’s not sure if Byron can see, but just to be safe, he lowers his gaze.

 

 “Good evening, dearest husband,” he murmurs.

 

 Such stiff phrases of greeting would have made his old self laugh. They sounded as if they were reading from a badly written script. The audience? A cold indifferent moon and over-embellished pieces of furniture. The actors? Byron and him. The same show was performed every night, with the same screams, the same lines. And the audience continued to remain indifferent. No matter how much tears and blood covered the sheets. No matter how much he begged and screamed.

 

 Byron takes his hand and leads him out into the hallway. He walks across the hall and into his own room. The slight smell of cologne fills the room, but to Kaito, it’s overwhelming. Nausea floods his chest, no matter how many times he has done this. Once again, he feels his legs shake. As always, the curtains are a deep red. If he looks hard enough, he can see the faint outline of the moon peeking through. Their footsteps make no sound as they make their way towards Byron’s bed.

 

 It’s a four poster behemoth, with matching scarlet curtains. The bed frame is carved with intricate patterns, sharp angles here and there. It was meant to intimidate, show the unwary their place for the rest of their life. This was the domain of Lord Arclight, an imposing individual who would have his own way. At the foot of the bed is a lion head, mouth open in mid roar, its carved eyes looking at Kaito in anger. Just like before every session.

 

 Just as Kaito’s legs give out, he seats himself on the mattress. Tonight, the sheets are a deep crimson. He swallows hard. Byron’s eyes glimmer in the moonlight, a predatory edge to them. Kaito’s heart begins to beat faster and he attempts to control his breathing. Some of Christopher’s teachings still remained with him and they always resurfaced around this point. _You musn’t show your opponent weakness. The unscrupulous will use that to their advantage. Straighten your posture. You must show them that you have pride and confidence in your abilities. Harden your expression. Do_ not _betray your emotions to your opponent, for they will use that against you._

 

 How sad it was, that the man who had taught him such valuable lessons had been reduced to a ghost of himself. Each morning at the breakfast table, Christopher would look blankly at his plate, barely acknowledging anyone there. Whenever Kaito attempted to meet his gaze, Christopher looked away. Occasionally, he would gather enough courage and exchange a few words with Kaito, but that would be it. Any attempts Kaito made at trying to communicate with Christopher would be coldly deflected. Rare acts of kindness here and there were cherished like gold, but they were so brief that Kaito wondered if they had even happened.

 

 Just what had happened to his mentor? Was it because Kaito was now his father’s property and thus off-limits to Christopher? But Kaito wasn’t an object. He was a living being. Or so he tells himself. Keeping up the illusion. That was all Kaito needed these days. _How cowardly,_ his duelist side sneers. But Byron had peeled back his armor and revealed the young boy underneath, still reeling from the betrayals he had been faced with throughout his life. Byron had taken that boy and ripped out his innards, reducing him to a shell of himself.

 

 With cold hands, Byron undoes the ribbon around Kaito’s thin robe. With rehearsed movements, he removes Kaito’s nightgown without a pause and tosses it to the floor. Despite his attempts at remaining strong, Kaito shivers a small bit. He doesn’t want to look down at his body, all exposed in the moonlight and chilling air. But his eyes travel downwards anyways. It was no longer recognizable after all of the surgeries Byron had put him through.

 

  _It’s not my body,_ he thinks, over and over again, wishing that it was true. But if it wasn’t, why was he feeling so much pain? Gone were the scars from the underground training. Gone were the memories Christopher had left on his body from their training sessions. Gone was the Numbers Hunter. Instead, bruised skin and scars of a different nature dotted the surface of his new skin. This was not the body of a warrior. This was the body of the abused. During the numerous surgeries, almost all of his bones had been reshaped. He knows he’s lost a few inches to his already scarce height and tries to ignore that fact.

 

 And then the breasts. Made of real flesh and blood. That leak milk because Byron never allows him to feed their children.

 

“ _There’s a nursemaid for that,_ he had said. _These are merely for my own gratification.You are my property. Never forget that.”_

 

On some nights, they would leak blood because Byron had bitten them too hard. Kaito stiffens as Byron begins to stroke the tips of his nipples, carressing them as if they were prized jewels. It takes all of his self control to not kick Byron away and scream. Despite the intimate touching, Byron’s hands remain cold. He runs his lips down Kaito’s neck, eliciting shivers from Kaito’s spine. Cold. Cold. He was never warm. The smell of cologne and Byron’s shampoo is overwhelming now, permeating Kaito’s senses and making him nauseous.

 

 “Kathryn, dear,” he murmurs into Kaito’s ear. “Do lie down.”

 

 Swallowing hard, Kaito obeys, feeling the embrace of the mattress and its silk sheets. Frigid. Just like Byron. Byron’s hands travel down his arms, stroking the bruised skin gently. But if Kaito were to try to sit up, he knows that those hands would turn into vices, restraining him onto the bed. He’s still the only one who’s been stripped of his clothes and he’s painfully aware of the fact.

 

 _“I am an experienced lover. I will be gentle with you,”_ he had promised on their first night.

 

 Oh, how quickly that had changed.

 

 He looks up at the face of Byron, trying to keep the panic out of his expression. The conquered looking up at the conquerer. Slowly, Byron takes a pillow from the head of the bed and places it beneath Kaito’s hips. The coolness of the cushion makes Kaito stiffen even more. Ah yes. They musn’t forget. This had never been for pleasure. This was for the practical process of having Kathryn fulfill her duty as Lady Arclight and produce heirs.

 

  _“You are a woman of House Arclight. Your main purpose is to be filled with_ my _seed and produce_ my _heirs. You are the container of_ my _future,”_ he had coldly said during one of their sessions.

 

 _My seed. My heirs. My future._ Where was Tenjo Kaito’s future? Oh. That’s right. To Byron Arclight, he didn’t exist anymore. There was only Kathryn Arclight.

 

 From the bedside drawer, Byron procures a key. Kaito can see the dull glint of the metal and shifts uncomfortably.

 

 “You said you were a modern man. So why do you insist on using such devices to control your women?” asks Kaito bitterly as Byron edges closer to the area between his legs.

 

 The chastity belt digs into Kaito’s skin, a constant reminder of Byron’s control. He can feel Byron stroking the carvings on the metal surface, his own crest embossed onto the center. Byron looks up at him, surprised to hear him talk after so long a silence.

 

 “Because you need more guidance than others,” he answers as he unlocks the device.

 

 Anger fills Kaito’s chest at the reply. He grits his teeth as the belt is removed. This was the result of his decision to run away. As he was chained to this bed, he remembers how Byron had beat him endlessly. At the end, he had shown Kaito the belt with a cruel smile on his face. And the burning needles that pierced right through his most sensitive area. How he had screamed. Three rings were looped through the piercings, which were then looped through the underside of the belt.

 

 Byron places the three rings on the bedside drawer and Kaito winces as he sees them. His hand returns to the area between Kaito’s legs, still cold. Slowly, Byron traces the moist folds with his finger. A shiver runs up Kaito’s spine.

 

 “ _It’s as if you were a real woman. No, wait. In all biological senses, you are. How amazing the 23rd century is..,_ ” he had murmured on their first night.

 

 He leans over Kaito as one hand slides down his trousers. Kaito looks into his predatory eyes and swallows hard.

 

 “You’re a monster..,” whispers Kaito, his voice trembling.

 

 “A monster of necessity,” replies Byron calmly as he tosses his trousers onto the floor.

 

  _Fssh._

 

 “My dad didn’t give me up for this,” protests Kaito.

 

 The fear drives him on and he continues to talk.

 

 “This marriage is a sham. You don’t even love me,” asserts Kaito. “I’m just an object to you.”

 

 “I _do_ love you, Kathryn. In my own way,” replies Byron.

 

 Kaito grimaces at the name. Once Byron renamed him, it felt as if he owned a part of him. He closes his legs and sees Byron’s eyebrows begin to furrow.

 

 “Now, Kathryn. Attend to your duties..,” warns Byron as he roughly parts Kaito’s legs.

 

 Kaito shakes his head and attempts to close his legs again. Byron continues to keep them apart, his patience wearing thin.

 

 “You are my property. Therefore I can do as I please with you, do you understand me?” he hisses as he pulls Kaito’s legs to the side.

 

 Without warning, he enters Kaito. The sudden sharp pain makes Kaito shout. Byron proceeds to thrust back and forth, the chafing movement made even worse without lubricant.

 

 “ _I_ am your lord and master!” he snaps as he pushes back Kaito’s protesting hands. “You are to obey _me_ and no one else!”

 

 Pained screams are ripped from Kaito’s throat. The tears begin to bead in his eyes. Byron grabs his shoulders for leverage. Strands of blonde hair fall loose from his braid. His teeth are clenched together in a mixture of effort and anger. This was his husband. A monster.

 

 “Get out!” screams Kaito as a wave of pain tears through his body. “FUCK YOU!”

 

 Byron backhands him across his face. The sound of skin against skin reaches Kaito’s ears before he feels the pain.

 

 “I am your husband. Speak to me with respect,” commands Byron as he readjusts Kaito’s body.

 

 “What kind of husband would do this?! What kind of an animal are you?!” shrieks Kaito as Byron continues.

 

 Immediately, Byron wraps his fingers around Kaito’s neck. _There will be bruises tomorrow,_ notes a voice in his head. Byron squeezes, a savage glimmer in his eyes.

 

 “Kill me,” snaps Kaito as he feels his airway closing. “Do it.”

 

 “I really would,” sneers Byron, his cold smile sending a shiver through Kaito’s back. “I truly, really would. But we still have duties to attend to on this mortal coil.”

 

 He continues to thrust in and out of Kaito, revelling in the choked screams. White spots begin to fill Kaito’s vision and he wheezes. Every time this has happened, he has prepared himself to die. But his wish is never granted. As predicted, his neck is released and he coughs. The most primal part of him gulps in air greedily. A whimper escapes from his throat.

 

 “Kill me,” he whispers.

 

 “No,” replies Byron as he brushes the saliva and tears away from Kaito’s lips.

 

 A shuddery inhale follows as Kaito readjusts his body.

 

 “Please.”

 

 “Use your manners for another time, Kathryn. We are at our most animalistic state. Scream for me,” chuckles Byron as he brushes Kaito’s hair away from his face.

 

 With his right hand, he holds onto Kaito’s shoulder. With his left, he squeezes one of Kaito’s breasts. His body moves back and forth in a fervent motion. Kaito’s flesh tears and he screams. Without looking, Kaito knows that blood has stained the sheets.

 

 “Oh, Kathryn! You pitiful creature! It’s such a fitting punishment for the former Numbers Hunter..!” laughs Byron as he sees the tears slide down Kaito’s cheeks. “You deserve this.”

 

 The pain is unbearable and Kaito can barely hear Byron over his screams. But faintly he can hear _“you deserve this.”_ His body convulses in pain and he attempts to grab at Byron. His vision swims and Byron has turned into a two headed beast.

 

 “This is your repentance..!” continues Byron. “Don’t you see? This is what you deserve for all of the souls you took!”

 

  _You deserve this._ A scream rips through Kaito’s throat and his back arches as he feels Byron finish inside of him. _You deserve this._

 

 “You will never be able to pay your debt,” hisses Byron as he pulls out.

 

 Kaito’s chest heaves up and down. His arm weakly swings over the bedside. His face is covered in his own sweat, tears and saliva. He can barely feel his throat, so raw from screaming. Christopher and Thomas must have heard. And yet they did nothing. As always. Warmth pools underneath Kaito and he knows that it’s his own blood. _You deserve this._ The wall in front of him has a mirror that hangs forlornly. He eyes his reflection in the mirror and winces.

 

 Byron notices and grabs Kaito’s body, hoisting him up. Roughly, he angles Kaito’s head towards the mirror.

 

 “Look at yourself,” growls Byron.

 

 Kaito continues to turn away, closing his eyes. He gasps in pain as Byron turns his neck towards the mirror.

 

 “ _Look,_ ” commands Byron.

 

 With trembling lips, Kaito opens his eyes. His blonde and turquoise locks are strewn across his chest, damp with sweat. Since when had they gotten so long? He can already see the beginnings of bruises across his neck. Where was Tenjo Kaito? Where was the pride in his eyes? Where was his sturdy posture? Tears fill his eyes. What had Byron done to him?

 

 Byron releases Kaito’s neck from his grip and lays him on his stomach. His body has been reversed so that his head faces the end of the bed. The mirror faces him and he buries his face in the bloody sheets. No. He doesn’t want to see that stranger’s pathetic face. A pained moan escapes his throat as he feels Byron reposition his legs. Cold hands raise his hips and fingers trace his backside.

 

 “ _Look,_ ” commands Byron.

 

 Kaito shakes his head, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over his face.

 

 “I want you to look in the mirror to see who you are. I think you’ve forgotten.”

 

 When Kaito refuses, Byron grabs his neck and places it over the bed end, atop the carved lion’s head. Kaito’s eyes remain screwed shut until Byron peels them back.

 

 “This time, I want you to look into the mirror this whole time. If you close your eyes, you won’t be leaving until dawn. Do you understand?”

 

 A sob fills Kaito’s chest and his body shakes. Weakly, he nods and opens his eyes. The pathetic stranger looks back at him in the mirror, her eyes wide and frightened. Byron is positioned behind him, two hands grasping Kaito’s sides.

 

 “Now scream for me,” whispers Byron as he enters.

 

 The stranger screams, pain filling her expression. _No. That’s you,_ whispers a voice in Kaito’s head. _You’re the one who’s screaming._ Tears stream down the woman’s face. _No. Those are your tears._ Her hair is yanked back, what little curls she had left completely unfurled. _No. That’s your hair._ The woman’s voice begs her husband to stop, edged with an unmistakable southern accent. _No. That’s your voice._

 

 Kaito screams until his voice is raw and his tears have completely run out. Yet Byron continues on and on. Merciless. Unrelenting. His head and body throb with pain. For a moment, it feels as if he felt the dawn sunlight on his back. But it was merely Byron’s hands, clawing down his back. In those moments, it was difficult to tell reality from illusion.


End file.
